The Only Choice Is Calm
by uozlulu
Summary: Chapter 253 spoilers. If Aizawa and Yamada are going to make it through shocking revelations, Yamada knows he has to be the calm one this time.


**Fandom** Boku no Hero Academia (My Hero Academia)  
**Character(s)/Pairing(s)** Aizawa Shouta, Naomasa Tsukauchi, Principal Nezu, Torino Sorahiko, Yamada Hizashi; take the pairings as you will, implied EraserMic and implied past EraserCloud  
**Genre** Drama/Grief/Missing Scene  
**Rating** PG-13  
**Word Count** 1,170  
**Disclaimer** BnHA/MHA c. Horikoshi, Shueisha, VIZ, Studio Bones, Funimation  
**Summary** If Aizawa and Yamada are going to make it through shocking revelations, Yamada knows he has to be the calm one this time.  
**Warning(s)** brief mentions of fatal injuries, spoilers up through chapter 253 of the manga, spoilers up to chapter 65 of Vigilantes  
**Notes** I wrote the first draft of this in about an hour. It just kind of poured out of me. One of those just had to empty my brain kind of fics, you know?

Work Text:

_**The Only Choice Is Calm**_

Yamada heard Gran Torino but did not register his voice. It was rhythmic and gentle. Yamada drew in a breath and then exhaled. He was in the staff room with Nezu, hyperaware of the walls around them and Nezu's eyes on him. If Yamada dared to speak right now, he would deafen not just Nezu but possibly the whole wing of the building, and Gran Torino and Naomasa as well. He took three more slow breaths. "I…" his voice was too quiet. "Please repeat it," he finally managed a normal volume.

"We believe that a part of Kurogiri could be Shirakumo Oboro," Gran Torino's voice remained gentle.

It still did not sound right, but Yamada knew he heard it correctly.

"We hate to ask this," Naomasa said, "but we aren't making any headway with Kurogiri. If you could come to Tartarus with Eraserhead…." Naomasa kept speaking and Yamada did his best to process what Naomasa said, but his mind was already jumping to what he would have to do next. How was he supposed to tell Aizawa? What were the words to use?

Everyone knew Yamada, Aizawa, and Shirakumo were inseparable. Everyone knew in another life they probably would be running a Pro-Hero agency somewhere, building up enough clout over the last decade to be at the top of their game by now. Not everyone knew how close Aizawa and Shirakumo really were. Shirakumo's death hurt both of them, but Aizawa the deepest. Just two years ago Aizawa started talking about Shirakumo and just recently Aizawa brought up the incident after only speaking about small, positive memories. The scab was almost a scar and now they were going to dig around in it with a knife. Yamada's stomach ached.

"…if you two need time, but this is also time sensitive," Naomasa continued as Yamada's brain managed to focus on the conversation again.

Yamada looked out the window at the pillowy winter clouds drifting through blue sky. His heart tightened along with his stomach. He heard the little buzz noise the radio station fed into his headphones when there was dead air when he was a rookie DJ. He closed his eyes and sighed inaudibly. Was there really a choice? "We'll be there today."

After reminders about security, the conversation finally ended. Outside the door, everything was silent. Homeroom was about to begin. Nezu spoke to Yamada, but his calm, familiar voice did not register. Yamada leaned forward on the table and gripped his hands together tightly. All he could see was blood. Blood and brain. A white sheet. He saw those injuries. No one could survive that. No one. Yamada took a deep, rattled breath. He swallowed a howl, a shout, a cry. His knuckles paled his teeth pressed together so tightly they made an audible noise when they involuntarily slipped. Another breath. He had to let go of all these memories, all these emotions. He needed to be calm. He was going to have to drive that ridiculous distance to Tartarus. He was going to have to keep his voice regulated. He breathed deeply and slowly released his fingers and closed his eyes.

Nezu rested a paw on Yamada's arm. "This is not fair to any of you."

For a brief moment, Yamada felt fifteen years younger, almost able to see the way the old 2-A classroom looked when Nezu was his homeroom teacher. The weight of the headphones on his ears and the directional speaker at his neck kept him grounded in reality. He opened his eyes. "I have to tell Aizawa. Can we use the staff room?" his voice strengthened with each word. He could do this. He had to do this.

"Of course." Nezu left to page Aizawa.

Yamada slowly stood up and ran his tongue along his teeth. He straightened his posture and centered his soul. Using his quirk at full capacity was easy, fluid, and natural. Learning how to regulate his voice to something normal was a life-long study. He had to say this at a normal tone, a normal pace. He stilled the shaking in his hands and tried not to stare at the door when it finally opened.

Aizawa closed it with a near-silent glide. Yamada could feel his gaze. He looked away from the window. Aizawa's posture straightened and his eyes did not blink though his quirk was not engaged. He tensed like he could already tell with a look that something was wrong.

"Eri –"

"Gran –"

Their voices clashed. Aizawa's posture did not relax.

"This isn't about Eri-chan. Gran Torino and Detective Naomasa want to meet us at Tartarus." Yamada did not look away. He willed his voice to remain firm. Trying to build up to it would not work. He might as well say it. "They analyzed Kurogiri's quirk. They think a part of him is Oboro."

The temperature dropped. Again all Yamada seemed capable of hearing was that phantom dead air warning buzz. Aizawa's eyes narrowed and his gaze hardened. His quirk was still inactive.

Yamada did not look away. He willed his face and shoulders to relax. "Shou –"

"We saw – We…" Aizawa's body trembled but his eyes remained steady, steely. He breathed deeply and then headed straight for the door. "We're going."

Yamada followed. "They're expecting us." His strides matched Aizawa's speed. Luckily the halls were empty. They reached the staff parking in record time. Yamada's ridiculous two-seater stuck out against the more practical vehicles. Just before they reached it, Yamada grasped Aizawa's arm.

Aizawa stopped and met his gaze.

"It could be a trick. We don't know all the quirks in the League. We've got to stay calm." Calm. Definitely had to stay calm. It was his turn to be calm like how it was Aizawa's turn to be calm in the face of those press vultures months ago. Yamada again swallowed down a howl. He could make all the noise he wanted at home later behind reinforced soundproof walls.

Aizawa's jaw tightened and his eyes continued to burn even though his quirk remained inactive. "Just drive. We can't waste time. I have class." The class that wanted to fling itself headfirst into danger like the teenage dumbasses they were, who wanted to fill the void All Might left behind by stuffing all twenty of themselves into it. It was a class full of people who could dream as brightly as the three of them once had, who could die just as easily as Shirakumo had, who could become what Shirakumo might have become.

Yamada nodded. He let his fingers slip away and then he unlocked his car. A breath in. A breath out. He fastened his seatbelt and drove. He let the speed limit help regulate his emotions. He tried to keep from gripping the steering wheel too tightly. Aizawa continued to keep his rage barely under the surface. They drove through the city and beyond. The bridge to Tartarus appeared in the distance. They seemed closer to more questions than answers.

**The End**


End file.
